187t3— 77.] THE TWO OREAT IIUN8 OF THE SEASON. 101 



easterl}' winds, and inisodden by the rottinc; influence of frost, 

 rides firm and elastic ; the fences are such as a good hokl horse 

 loves ; and a couple of hundred riders are sweeping the 

 country before them. QcXco Xeyetv 'ArpetSas. For three days 1 

 have been thinking over this run and its many incidents, and for 

 three nights hnve been dreaming over them, till the fog of ex- 

 citement has cleared awa}-, and the whole scene and its actors 

 stand out vividly, as if moving on the paper before me. May 

 my pen, for this once at least, have readiness, and do them 

 justice ! For the moment, it seems to me I am watching the 

 eager pack breasting the ascent above " the brook," taking the 

 ridge-and-furrow at a laborious angle. Captain Coventry, on 

 Patch, with Lord Grey de Wilton and Captain Farley, are leading 

 the riglit-hand division, Captain Jacobson and ]\Ir. Tomkinson 

 the centre, and Lord Carington and a strong party on the left. 

 Thus over the old stake-and-bound on the summit, and here is 

 Adam's Gorse but a field below. But the pack bear sharp to 

 the left ; so make the best of the four-railed timber and the 

 ditch that opposes you. The top bar looks as if it would 

 crack, and, besides, hounds are really running now. Two 

 handy gates at the corner of the field take you with the cry. A 

 tliird there is, too — and a fatal one for the leaders on the right, 

 who turn througli it, are cut off from the chase, and give it up 

 in Twyford village. Hounds are still leaning to the left — two 

 trying bottoms have to be flown — the water fenced at the one 

 by timber, the other by blackthorn. So up the rising ground, 

 and here we are at the gravel i)it, whither the Quorn scurried 

 to ground some weeks ago. The earths are sure to be open 

 in this foreign land, and 'tis a million to one our fox has taken 

 the refuge offered liim. Yes, tliere can be no doubt about it ! 

 The pack have dipped into the pit, and the foremost horsemen 

 pull up with ejaculations of disai)pointment and chagrin — when 

 a single hound springs on to the bank, speaks to it above, 

 dashes through the hedge beyond, and calls her comrades 

 after her : 



Yt'K ! No ! 



"Wliy ! by jo ! 



Sold ! sold 



